


Red Ribbon Rapest

by Saltganley



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6291169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltganley/pseuds/Saltganley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What will John do when Sherlock is the victim?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Idk

Red Ribbon Rapest

John and Sherlock had been running around London chasing a serial rapest. "John what's the connection!" Sherlock threw himself on their couch, so far there had been four women and three men all different ages, looks, occupants, races even sexual orientation. They knew it was the same person as they used the same drug to control their victim and tied a red ribbon around their ankle. Even the vague descriptions of the man were the same. They had been dubbed the Red Ribbon Rapist by the media. Sherlock knew it was time he would strike again, every four days and it was day four since the last case. The fourth woman, even John had noticed the attacks where getting worse, he was getting more brazen and more violent. John had tried to convince Molly to learn to shoot in fact the conversation ended with Molly demonstrating her ability to use a taser on a cadaver which made both John and Sherlock feel a lot better about her safety. Sherlock decided he had to go back to the last scene, he threw his coat on and headed out remembering John had gone to the shop. The attacker had grabbed the woman from the car park at work but took her back to her flat before attacking her in the living room. The police tape was still around the house but it was deserted. Sherlock knew the attacker must have scoped the victims out and knew their habits but other then just been random Sherlock couldn't find a pattern. Sherlock huffed looking over the lounge room again. "Found the pattern yet?" A voice made Sherlock jump out of his mind palace. A man as tall as Sherlock but much stronger and heavier set was standing in the living room door way. His long straight brown hair in a ponytail and his dark eyes raking over Sherlock's body. Sherlock quickly looked him over, expensive suit, expensive yet a young persons cologne, this man was in his late 30ties and pretty much the visual Sherlock had made in his Mind Palace as what the attacker would look like using the victims descriptions of him. "Reminiscing?" Sherlock questioned moving closer to him. "Oh Mr Holmes this was just practice for my final piece." The man smiled reminding Sherlock of "the creepy smile" that John hated seeing in the attackers and murders they would catch. "Shall I explain?" The man offered, Sherlock just stared at him. "Miss Tyrell, with her beautiful silky curls." The man eyed Sherlock's curls. "Mr Femming the scientist. Ms Faith the Scioiopath. The detective, Mrs Partridge the violinist her beautifully long fingers." The man, close to Sherlock now and able to run his fingers down Sherlock's. "I'll admit the blonde Army Veteran was a last minute idea, I couldn't find an army doctor and he wasn't as short as John. It's hard to find someone who looks like John you know. This one, well, you have to admit you do look like a ballet dancer with your long limbs and all." Before Sherlock could react a sharp pain stabbed him in the neck, the man chuckled happily as Sherlock lost consciousness. 

Back at Baker st John pushed the door open with his elbow hands laden with the shopping. "Sherlock, Sherlock I got your Baking Soda." John dumped everything on the only empty part of the kitchen table. "Sherlock." John called out again, John shoved the cold food away before looking for his flatmate only to find the flat empty. John checked his watch, Lestrade was due in a half hour. He had promised Sherlock he would come over for dinner and bring all the case files for the Red Ribbion Rapest as Sherlock had only become interested in the case after the third attack. John sent Lestrade a text.

Did Sherlock get sick of waiting? - JW 

No, last message from him was demanding I bring the tox screens with me. I'm on my way to Baker St right now. - GL

Insufferable prat isn't here. - JW

Your surprised? - GL

No! I'll text him and find out where he is and how long he is going to be. - JW 

John flicked the kettle on and lent on the kitchen bench before texting Sherlock.

Where are you? Lestrade is on his way. - JW

John finished putting the food away and quickly tiding up the lounge room, John had pretty much given up trying to eat at the kitchen table not really wanting to know what Sherlock's latest experiment actually was. John checked his phone as a knock at the door signalled that Lestrade was there. Suddenly John was concerned that Sherlock hadn't replied so he decided to call him, it went straight to messagebank. John looked at Lestrade confused so Lestrade tried ringing Sherlock but straight to messagebank. Trying not to panic John tried Molly who hadn't seen him all day and Mrs Hudson who had seen Sherlock leave about an hour ago. John couldn't shake a bad feeling, he decided to send a casual text to Mycroft.

Sherlock with you? - JW

No, why? -MH

DI Lestrade is waiting for him to go over this case. - JW

John stared at his phone for a couple of minutes. "Let me make you some tea." John suddenly offered trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach. After making a tea for Lestrade and himself John stared at Sherlock's empty cup as Lestrade updated John on his now finalised divorce. John jumped as his phone chimed at the same time as Lestrade's.

There is a car waiting for you outside, bring Lestrade and your gun. - MH

Lestrade looked confused at John, John shrugged and raced to his bedroom to grab his gun before jointing Lestrade at the bottom of the stairs of 221 Baker st. Sure enough outside one of Mycroft's cars was waiting for them, once in the car John text Mycroft again.

What's going on? - JW

Sherlock has been taken to the penthouse at the Athenaeum hotel. - MH

John showed Lestrade the text message just as a second came thought.

Get Lestrade to show his badge at the front counter and they will give you the key to the penthouse. - MH

John wasn't comfortable with this, he had a bad feeling in his stomach but then he didn't know if Mycroft was playing with him. Maybe Sherlock is on a date but then again he wouldn't have organised Lestrade to come over and he would have told John, wouldn't he. John stared out the window. 

The Athenaeum hotel

Do not read if Rape or violence is a trigger for you! Skip to the next chapter.

Sherlock slowly came too, he could hear a male voice hum in the next room as he was making tea as the tea bag sloped in and out of he cup. As more of his scenes joined him he realised he was in a hotel room, his jacket and scarf gone just his button up shirt and trousers. Sherlock flexed his naked toes and then his fingers which where above his head. He pulled his arms down unsuccessfully, he was tied to the bed. Sherlock's eyes ripped open. Sure enough Sherlock was tied to a hotel bed, his wrists tied together with red rope and onto the black iron bed head. One ankle also tied to the bed with the red rope and around the other ankle a red ribbon tied neatly in a bow, Sherlock quickly checked himself giving a uncontrolled sigh of relief to find himself completely unharmed yet weak. "Right on time Mr Holmes." The Red Ribbion Rapest was standing at the bedroom door, now in the same attire as Sherlock, button up shirt and trousers, no shoes. He smiled seductively over his cup of tea. "This is perfect Sherlock, I hope you don't mind me calling you Sherlock. I have been working hard on this, making sure the red would accentuate your beautiful pale skin. I got these red silk sheets just for you, I know you like your creature comforts. Your beautiful curls fan out on the sheets much better then Miss Tyrell's. You have no idea how beautiful you look spread out on the sheets like this all for me." He abandoned his tea to join Sherlock on the bed stroking his free ankle. Sherlock tried to kick him but he was quicker and grabbed Sherlock's ankle with enough force to break it. "I dont want to break you Sherlock, don't make me break you." He practically whispered. Sherlock tried not to panic, tried to stay calm. "You have followed my work and seen my experiments. I thought as a scientist you would appreciate that and I have worked out how I want to take you." He pushed Sherlock's ankle to his bum making his knee bend and with a painful pressure on Sherlock's ankle making his knee fall to the side completely exposing his groin. "So beautiful." He whispered moving to Sherlock's face pushing his lips against Sherlock's. Sherlock pushed away with a yelp as the man put pressure on his ankle. "Now Sherlock, I said don't fight me" he whispered. "Get off me!" Sherlock snapped trying to move his knees together only to have a cracking echo through the room as Sherlock's ankle snapped under the mans grip. Sherlock let out a shocked painful scream. "Oh Sherlock, I said I didn't want to break you." He let go of Sherlock's ankle and ran a finger up Sherlock's trouser leg. Sherlock tried to calm his breathing but knew tears where streaking down his face. With one hand the man held Sherlock's knee to the bed and grabbed his chin with the other smashing his lips to Sherlock's again. Sherlock refused to open his mouth only making the man sigh, he changed position sitting on the thigh of Sherlock's good leg and pressing a knee into the thigh of Sherlock's broken ankle leg. "Now this was what I was most looking forward too." With one hand on Sherlock's shoulder pushing it hard against the bed head the other hand slowly unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt exposing his pale chest a little bit at a time. Sherlock could feel the mans arousal starting to push against his thigh. Panic starting to swell in Sherlock's chest as he started to try and buck the man off him. "Sherlock!" The man snapped pressing hard on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock glared at him huffing from trying to fight him. 

John waited for Lestrade to call out, a angry not-Sherlock's voice replied. "Just a minute." The door opened slightly to a tall man who had obviously just thrown on his trousers in a hurry. "How can I help officer?" He growled. "We are looking for Sherlock Holmes." Lestrade answered. "Never heard of them." The man went to shut the door as John shoved his foot in it. "Sherlock!" John yelled out. The man was about to push John aside when Sherlock's broken voice could just be heard "John." The man turned back into the hotel room to run from them but John had his gun in his hand and shot him in his knee before leaving him with Lestrade. "Sherlock!" John called again heading into the bedroom, John's mouth fell open in shock as Sherlock was curled into himself completely naked. His clothes had been torn and left on the bed. John quickly checked the room for any body else after been satisfied they were alone he snatched a blanket off the side bench as he approached Sherlock. Kneeling on the side of the bed John reached out to cover Sherlock's naked body. "Sherlock." John gently called to him, Sherlock curled into himself tighter as John wrapped him in the blanket. "Sherlock." John repeated softy. "John." Sherlock finally looked up. "Hey." John smiled gently trying to stay calm. "He..." Sherlock tried to talk gesturing towards the other room. "It's ok, Lestrade has him in the next room." John explained as Lestrade finally entered the bedroom realising too late what had happened as more voices started to fill the penthouse. "Ambulance." John asked Lestrade. "Downstairs, I'll call them up." Lestrade left the room ordering his team to stay out. John quickly cut the ropes holding Sherlock's hands and almost fell off the bed when the 6ft detective dived into his lap. John wrapped the blanket around him taking in the injuries, dislocated shoulder and broken ankle he guessed trying hard to keep calm. John really wanted to go back out into the lounge room and beat the epic shit out of the tosser he left on the floor. He could hear him getting practically thrown out of the penthouse by a particularly pissed off Donovan. Two Ambulance officers slowly entered the bedroom, having been warned by Lestrade beforehand. "John." One of the officers started, John remembered the officer, they had met in A&E a couple of times. John nodded, "Frank, broken ankle and dislocated shoulder as far as I can work out." John gestured to the huddled body of the detective in his lap completely attached to him. "Sherlock, I'm Frank. I'm a friend of John's and I'm an Ambulance officer. Can you tell me what happened?" Frank had crouched beside the bed so Sherlock could see him if he opened his eyes. The head of curls shook a no. "Sherlock, we have to get you to the hospital." Sherlock only held on to John tighter. "I can carry him to the elevator Frank if you clear the way." Frank nodded sending his offsider to clear the way while grabbing a blanket to cover more of Sherlock once John had stood with Sherlock in his arms. Once in the elevator thankfully having come across no one John realised Sherlock was in his Mind Palace. John slid onto the stretcher in the evelvator. "Your not going to get anything out of him Frank, sorry." John tried to explain. "No problems John." Frank gave him a tight smile. John was able to answer most of the questions, even estimated a pulse and breathing rate as Sherlock refused to let go or communicate. Having regular visits to the A&E all the doctors and nurses were so shocked to see much a absent Sherlock they allowed them be. John managed to move them without aggravating the injuries he had identified, it was the ones he wasn't aware of that was concerning him. Unsurprisingly gaining a private room almost straight away in a quiet part of the hospital, silently thanking Mycroft, John gave the facial expressions for everyone to clear out for a bit. "Sherlock?" John called to the shock of black curls under his chin. Getting Sherlock out of his mind palace was never easy. "Sherlock, I need to get your shoulder back in yeah." John dug deep to contain his anger at the garbage that had caused Sherlock's injuries. Sherlock nodded and loosen his death grip on John sitting up to face him. John was able to do a Cunningham technique to put it back, a huge hand print was becoming quite obvious against Sherlocks alabaster skin. "It's going to have to be X rayed you know." John softy reminded him as Sherlock pulled the blanket around himself tightly and borrowed back into John's jumper. Sherlock let out a small sigh. "Clothes?" Sherlock asked into John's jumper. John could see a set of what looked like Sherlock's clothes sitting on the basin in the bathroom. "Bathroom, I think." Sherlock turned his head towards the bathroom and gave a curt nod. After some particularly slow and painful manuvering John managed to help Sherlock into a plain white button up and black trousers. Once John had Sherlock back on the bed he called the nurse. Without Sherlock letting go of some part of John, Sherlock was X rayed and checked over. His broken ankle set, shoulder was back in with no breaks and various bruises all photographed for evidence Sherlock was still unnaturally quiet. A male nurse gingerly stepped into the room holding a rape kit. "We don't need that." Sherlock refused to look at the nurse, instead finding the view from the window fascinating. The nurse however only sat the kit on the bench. "It's a male, male rape kit." The nurse carefully pointed out. "I don't require it." Sherlock growled out. The male nurse hovered. "We got there in time." John clarified. The nurse let out a small relieved sigh leaving with the kit in hand. Sherlock still had a firm grasp on John's jumper sleeve as John sat in the chair beside Sherlock's hospital bed. "I want to go home." Sherlock whispered but before John could reply a new doctor entered. "Good evening Mr Holmes." He greeted Sherlock carefully. "And Mr..." The doctor turned his attention to John. "Doctor John Watson." John answered offering his free hand to shake as Sherlock tightened his grip on John's jumper sleeve but ignoring the doctor. "Well your free to go if you wish, I would like to keep you the night but seeing you have your own doctor you are free to go. Sherlock slid off the bed pulling John close as a crutch, with a nod to the doctor Sherlock hobbled off the ward.


	2. Aftermath

John and Sherlock had just left the hospital under Mycroft's guards with the first morning light peaking out between the buildings when Lestrade called John. Turns out the Red Ribbon Rapest is a Phillip Gozebo, the son of the Greek Ambassador Martin Gozebo who has diplomatic ammunitity and had already been transferred back to his consulate. Greg picked something up of his desk and threw it as the phone case in John's fisting hand made a cracking noise. Sherlock pulled his coat around himself tighter.

Once back at Baker Street Sherlock hobbled around the flat, John couldn't decide if he was testing out the plaster cast or the limits of his painkillers. "Sherlock, will you sit down. I'm making tea and breakfast." Sherlock silently curled himself into his chair between his sore shoulder and foot plaster he looked awkward. "You don't want to talk about it." Sherlock merely stated the obvious. "Do you want to talk about it?" John replied sitting Sherlock's tea beside him. "Not particularly." John returned to the kitchen and the cooking omelettes. "Bit, disappointing." John commended fisting his fingers into his palms. "Should have shot him in the head." John huffed before picking up his tea and breakfast and joining Sherlock in the living room. After eating half the omelette and all his tea Sherlock managed to get into his 'mind palace' position as the flat fell silent, John picked up a novel that had been put on the wayside since the Red Ribbon Rapist case had started. Although tired John couldn't bring himself to go to sleep so stayed with Sherlock in the living room. As the day wore out John ordered them curry and left some beside Sherlock with a fresh tea, John wasn't quite ready to stir the detective. This case was one that he was going to need to deal with. Awhile later Sherlock broke the silence. "How do you do it?" Sherlocks fingers under his chin. "How do I do what?" John put his book in his lap. "Let people touch you?" John put his book on his side bench. "Occupational hazard." Sherlock gave his 'don't be plebeian' look. "It's, reassuring." The doctor offered pathetically as an explanation. Sherlock got to his feet, stepping over the coffee table, plastered foot be damed and managed to curl into John's lap. Unsure what to do with a lap full of Consulting Detective, John gently ran his fingers through Sherlocks curls. "You should sleep." John suggested to the lump in his lap. "Boring." Was the muffled reply. "Berk." John murmured affectionally. "You at least need a shower." John added. Sherlock whirled in to action and had slammed the bathroom door shut before John could process what had just happened. Gingerly John approached the bathroom door. "Sherlock, you ok?" John called gently through the door. "I wouldn't get the plaster wet John." Sherlock huffed back. Not sure what to do with himself John prepared for bed and then made tea while watching the bathroom door. Eventually Sherlock reappeared wrapped firmly in his nightgown and looking extremely red and raw from scrubbing. "Tea?" John offered up Sherlock's mug to him. Sherlock stood as close as possible and gently slid his mug from John's hand from between John's fingers. "Thank you John" he practically whispered, quite obvious for more then just the tea. "Always." John whispered back. The two men shared a silence as they finished their tea. John rinsed his mug and left it by the sink as he turned to head to his room Sherlock stood nervously in his path. A nervous Sherlock just didn't seem right, he was always self assured and in control, this was just scary. "I can sleep on the sofa." John gently suggested figuring Sherlock didn't want to be alone. "And have your back sore and neck creaked, I don't think so. However my bed is larger then yours and I have to update my website so you will sleep in my bed while I work." Sherlock's self assurance back in full swing. John chuckled and gestured for Sherlock to lead the way.

Greg dropped in the next day and as soon as Sherlock went back to his experiment on the kitchen table Greg took John aside. "How is he coping?" John sighed. "Hidden it all in his mind palace." Greg nodded. "I thought he would be passed out been the end of a case." Greg watched as Sherlock started to mumble something about traces of curry in the soil sample. "I know. Unless he is in his mind palace I can barely go to the bathroom without him wanting to know where I am and when I'm coming back out. He stood at the bathroom door the entire time I had a shower this morning." Greg nodded solidly. "That's not good. We'll let me know if you need me to drop any cold cases off or if you think he is ready for cases again." Greg clapped John on the back. "Will do Greg and thank you." Greg nodded as he left.

As he waited for the kettle to boil, John's phone beeped, he slipped it out of his pocket and his heart stopped. It was a text from a name he never expected to see again. 'Lunch Doc?' Was the message. John looked over to Sherlock, completely focused on whatever was on the kitchen table. His curls pushed around this safety googles really did give him the 'mad scientist' look. 'Apted' John thought as he thumbed a quick reply. That night it took a high dose of sleeping pills in Sherlock's tea to finally get him to sleep. As guilty as John felt about drugging him, it had been four days since that night with no sleep and John was more then worried about it. John had Mrs Hudson keep an eye on him to contact him if Sherlock started to stir. John wasn't even game enough to imagine the hell Sherlock would implode on Baker Street if he woke up without John. But he couldn't ignore the Sgt Major specially now neither of them where Enlisted. John was dressed casually as he wondered down an old dirty forgotten street with various Italian food places run by bunches of teens. The last shop in the alley and there was the Sgt Major rolling up a slice of pizza to shove in her mouth like a sushi roll. 'That's not how you eat pizza' John smiled as he took a seat. 'Like I give a shit' came the mumbled reply. John grabbed his own piece & ate it properly. 'I meet my boss tomorrow' the Sgt Major commented like it was an everyday occurrences. The tilt of her neck that allowed her long pony tail drop over her shoulder was the only tell tale sign she was scared. John dropped his pizza. 'Get out of the country, I will help you.' John sat up ready to plan an extraction. 'I can't run from his one Doc, but tell me, who would you murder for Sherlock Holmes with no freebies?' John looked over the Sgt Major, she had a few more scars then last time he had seen her. Her home country Australian tan was fading out, but the Afgan sun damage was still evident on her exposed skin and her brown hair. Her Aussie mate ship personally had always contrasted with her specialty but that was probably why she was so good at it. John was never 100% sure why the line in the sand stopped with him, even so, no freebies means if she is caught she will go to jail or be dead before she got arrested regardless of how good she is. 'Already have.' Was John's clipped reply, he didn't like where this was going. 'He's not my target, but I'm to promise him. The target is legit, dunno about the promise.' Fucking lovely, Sherlock is going to be kidnapped for leverage and John has drugged him. Shit! 'Enjoy your date Doc.' The Sgt Major stood up and wondered off into the night. John quickly searched the table to find all the details she had left for him. The target was a diplomat, her boss wants to play with him before the Sgt Major was to do her job and make him disappear. John wondered if she was going to end up disappearing too, of what John knew of her boss he was capable of it.

Sure enough Sherlock was fuming when he woke, more so that John had left the flat without him then actually been drugged. Even Sherlock had to admit, not out loud of course, that been drugged without noticing highlighted his desperate need to sleep. However John remembers what it is like to be too scared to close your eyes, not knowing what horrors your subconscious had ready for you. At least Sherlock was angry enough at him to demand he accompanied him to the morgue then Scotland Yard without commenting on how easy John agreed. Holding a bag of lungs while sitting in Greg Lestrade's office wasn't quite the afternoon John had expected but really, it's Sherlock. Greg seem to expect that Sherlock was pretty much willing for any distraction at the time so almost every surface of the office was covered in boxes of either cold cases or current cases. Greg was desperately writing on sticky notes and slapping them on files as Sherlock made comments and moved on. 'Father did it, insurance fraud, actually a suicide, check the attic.' Sherlock would drop some on the floor without comment, Greg just used those moments to make sure his piles where right. 'Right, I'm going to go grab some lunch. Usual all round?' John declared giving the cooler bag of lungs his seat. 'Ta' Greg replied still scrubbing down something Sherlock had said. John however found Sherlock right behind him as he headed out the door. 'I'm not running away, I'll be back.' Sherlock snorted at him, still angry then. 'I'm not going to drug you again either.' John added. Sherlock rolled his eyes but continued to follow him.


	3. Fi

Fi sat in her favourite arm chair, a lovely Earl Grey tea in her hands gently warming her fingers, a packet of Tim Tams lay open beside her. It was one of those English afternoons that reminded her how much she loved London. She gave the head at her feet a shove making the suspended body at her feet sway. She giggled and started to sing. "England swings like a pendulum do, Bobbies on bicycles, two by two, Westminster Abbey, the tower of Big Ben, The rosy-red cheeks of the little children."  
Fi suddenly wondered, not for the first time, if something was wrong with her but she shrugged it off. Taking a sip of her tea, how bloody long was the git going to be out cold for. Her Boss wanted them both at the meeting point in about an hour, it only takes about 20 mins to get to the meet point but then add having to get the git off the ceiling, maybe a couple more punches oh and Fi had to finish her tea too. Maybe the drop to the floor will wake him up.

Mycroft lent on his umbrella as the 5"5 woman led the 6"7 crawling man into the room by the chain of the hand cuffs. She had obviously had a lot of fun with this one but as instructed he was still capable of answering questions and have much more pointed pain applied before he became completely useless. She was impressive really, if she wasn't completely crazy he would have considered inviting her home to meet his parents. "Mr Philip Gozebo, welcome. Please have a seat." Mycroft gestured towards the empty seat, the woman basically forced him onto the seat with very little fight completely ignoring the now bleeding four day old bullet wound in his knee. He tried to sit up straight and flick his now messy pony tail off his face. "Your assistant promised me Sherlock Holmes." He managed to croak out. For the first time Mycroft received the most deadliest look from the woman. Fascinating, she has made the connection between John and Sherlock and he still believes what she had promised him. She really must get a raise. "So Fiona told you I would deliver Sherlock Holmes to you." Mycroft watched the piece of dirt try and make himself look more presentable as he nodded. "We'll let me introduce myself, I'm Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock's older brother. The lovely lady beside you is the talented Sgt Major Fiona Claire. Now I have no worries telling you all this because the Sgt Major is very good at her job and very good friends with a certain John Watson." Philip's glare darkened as Mycroft continued. "No one touches Sherlock without playing the price, regardless of diplomacy." Fiona smiled and for the very first time Mycroft saw her relax. As much as Mycroft wanted to rip the bastard limb from limb, Fiona was much better at it, besides Mycroft's suit was new. "Now before the Sgt Major finishes her work, tell me why Sherlock Holmes?" Phillip looked up into Mycroft's face. "Sherlock came to me, he wanted to be with me. He saw my potential to keep him happy." Mycroft lifted an eyebrow, "You believe you can offer Sherlock everything his heart desires?" Phillip gave a determined nod. "We all know this is foreplay for the lovely detective." Phillip smiled, his bloodied teeth showing. "You felt the need to drug him to get him to bed and break his ankle?" Mycroft asked noticing Fi clench her fists. "Why else would you think that this lovely lady would be, breaking me in?" He asked with a flirty glint in his eye. "Those rapes all for him to investigate to his hearts content, that's why he came to me, he wanted me!" A snapping noise echoed through the room, the side of the chair Fi had hold of broke in her hand. Anger flaring in her eyes. "Come now we all know that is how the detective wants it, rough, violent. We are perfect for each other. He looked so beautiful tied to the bed his pale skin against the red silk sheets. So where is he?" Phillip asked starting to get impatient. "You will never see my dear brother again, you are not what my brother wants. In fact you know nothing of my brother." Mycroft nodded to Fi who wrapped a hand around his neck pushing on a pressure point allowing Phillip to scream in agony before knocking him out. "I think you have this under control, perhaps come past my office tomorrow and we shall talk about a raise." Mycroft nodded and headed out as Fi prepared her tools.


	4. Message to my readers

Hi! Just wanted to let you know I haven't stopped working on this story. I have been in hospital having surgery and been doped up on pain killers since. The next chapter is going to be a hard one to write so it's going to take me a little bit of time to write but please don't panic I have written half already. I'm also still working on a couple of my other stories on here, feel free to take a peek at them. Thanks and love you all!


	5. Crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late, this chapter was been difficult to write.

John led Sherlock out to a cafe near New Scotland Yard frequented by Officers. "Are you going to eat?" John asked as he opened the door for the both of them. Sherlock shrugged and headed for a booth seat leaving John to order. He joined Sherlock at the table with a coffee each and a plate of various bite size muffins, little sandwiches, cakes and slices. John slowly ate leaving plenty of time for Sherlock to sneak whatever he wanted from his plate as the two of them ate in silence. Just as they were finishing a pert blonde officer who had just entered the cafe with a group of first year police officers approached John. "Hi! Your Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes yeah!" The blonde smiled brightly at John with soft baby blue eyes. "Yes, nice to meet you Officer Blake." John replied having read her name off her uniform. "I can't wait to work with you guys, I read your blog all the time. I'm such a fan." Blake gushed at John. "You will never make it to Gavin's team by sleeping your way in as he is in a serious Homosexual relationship and will not sleep with you. Besides John has just recently been through a traumatic divorce and just because he is a semi famous Doctor doesn't make him rich so he is a poor choice for your new 'Sugar Daddy'. Also your rich Doctor ex-boyfriend Sugar Daddy has left you with crabs so try sleeping your way to the top with someone else." Blake's face was bright red in anger but before she could say anything John grabbed Sherlock's hand and dragged him out of the cafe. John shoved Sherlock in the first cab he saw back to Baker Street and sent Lestrade a text to ask him to bring the lungs over. Once home Sherlock headed straight for his violin. John didn't want to talk about the Officer, his divorce or Sherlock's behaviour so he made Tea while Sherlock lost himself in his violin. As the sun disappeared from the windows of Baker Street the familiar foot falls of Lestrade headed up the stairs. "Come in Lestrade." Sherlock called out before he could even knock. "Bought your lungs." Lestrade held up the cooler bag from the morgue. "Ta." Came from John as Sherlock snatched it out of his hand to stuff them in the fridge. While in the kitchen Lestrade took the opportunity to talk to John. "He's angry with you?" Lestrade half asked half pointed out. "Yup." John answered not looking away from his laptop. "He's moving around well with the cast yeah." Lestrade decided to change topics. "Yeah, pouncy git makes been injured look like a fashion statement." Replied good naturedly as Sherlock returned. "I didn't know if you wanted those other cold cases so I have them in my car if you want them." Lestrade offered. "Nope, this pouncy bastard is getting dinner and sleep tonight." John answered before Sherlock could gaining an icy glare from the Consulting Detective. "Leave them with Mrs Hudson, I'll look at them tomorrow." Sherlock finally added. "Ok I'm off them." Lestrade made a hastily retreat sensing the tension between the flat mates. Once Lestrade was gone John spoke. "I'll order your favourite Thai, we'll watch some crap TV then bed. You need to sleep the side effects of the sleeping pills from last night off and you'll feel better." John explained but Sherlock continued to glare at him. "I'll stay with you." John reassured him. "Your not going to run off once I'm a sleep to meet up with another date." It finally dawned on John, Sherlock thought that he drugged Sherlock to meet up with a date. "Fi is not a date Sherlock, we served together and you needed the sleep like you need it right now." Sherlock glared at John looking for an inch of lies. "I'll even sleep in your bed again so you'll know if I leave." John offered. Sherlock finally agreed.

John rolled over almost falling out of bed as his phone chimed, ah right in Sherlock's bed, that's why there's a wall there. Amazing Sherlock was still asleep beside him. John answered his phone. "Greg." John mumbled still somewhat asleep. "Hey John, I wanted to let you know the git has left London and disappeared in Greece. I'm thinking his family have hidden him. I know it sucks but at least the dirtball isn't in England anymore. I dunno, I thought Sherlock might like to know." John rubbed his forehead. "Thanks Greg." John sighed. "You got any cases for Sherlock?" Greg shifted uncomfortably. "I, um, look John, all those files Sherlock refused to look at and dumped on the floor of my office. They were all rapes and um, well. I have a headless torso and well it's one of the most disgusting assaults I have ever seen." John sat up. "I dunno Greg, maybe we should let Sherlock choose?" Waking at the perfect moment Sherlock turned his head to face John. "Tell Gavin we are on our way." Sherlock answered his deep baritone voice sleep rough. Neither gentlemen discussed the fact they had been sharing a bed as they prepared for the day nor did Lestrade comment over the phone. Sherlock had almost open the front door when Mrs Hudson opened hers. "Oh boys, I have a parcel for the two of you." Mrs Hudson handed John a box with both their names on it. "Thanks Mrs H." John gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he followed Sherlock out onto the street. John stopped on the sidewalk. "Sherlock, who would want to send you a penis?" Sherlock whipped back to look at John who was standing with an ice box mostly unwrapped and open, a penis with a little tag with Sherlock's name on it and a jar with a set of matching testicles with a matching tag with John's name on it. "Lestrade did say a headless torso." Sherlock mused, John knew it was inappropriate but he just couldn't help snort a giggle. He closed it as they stepped into the cab. The cab stopped at the address Lestrade had texted, the yellow police tape cornering off a dirty alleyway. The stench of rotting everything could be smelt from the road but Sherlock dashed out of the cab leaving John to pay. John slowly followed the path Sherlock had blazed still puzzled over the icebox in his hand. Just as John reached Sherlock he heard Lestrade's voice coming down the alley. "Donovan don't let Sherlock see..." Lestrade voice stopped as John turned to face him. Lestrade went pale. "It's..." Lestrade started "Mr Phillip Gozebo" Sherlock finished his statement in a flat voice, Sherlock still hadn't moved from standing over the dead body. "Sherlock?" John asked gently. All of a sudden a wirl of coat and Sherlock was gone. "Shit." Lestrade swore, John could now see the twisted and tortued body of Mr Phillip Gozebo. John handed the ice box to Lestrade as he headed out of the alley to find Sherlock but he wasn't out on the street. "Fucking buggering shit!" John swore as he tried to get Sherlock to answer his phone. "John, Christ, I'm sorry! I only just got a confirmation of who he was from his finger prints." Lestrade rubbed his face in frustration. A ding made them both jump as John looked down at his phone.

Baker Street-MH

"Mycroft" John waved his phone to explain. "I got to go, I'll keep you updated yet." John offered, Lestrade only nodded.


	6. Start of something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have this marked as explicit. Just a warning yeah.

John didn't know what he was going to find when he rushed up the stairs at Baker Street, Sherlock sitting in his chair in his silk robe waiting for him definitely wasn't on the list. "John get undressed." Sherlock ordered as he stood. "Why." John asked as he slowly hung his coat up. "It's how these things are done." Sherlock answered with an impatient and angry huff. John quirked an eyebrow. "Hurry up John, undressed now." Sherlock almost stamped his foot. "Again, why?" John asked carefully. "So we can have sex you idiot, why are we even talking about this." Sherlock yelled. John stared at his flatmate in shock. "Don't look at me like that I know you and your CO where 'more then friends' and your reputation is legendary. Three Continents Watson." Sherlock spat. "I'm not having sex with you Sherlock..." John started to reply. "What because I'm an ugly, broken Freak!" Sherlock yelled. "Your not a freak and your certainly not ugly or broken Sherlock." John answered quietly still confused. "You don't understand John, it's my fault." Sherlock was now in John's face. "Your fault." John repeated. "Yes, finally your getting it!" Sherlock turned to declare to the empty room. "Sherlock, what that piece of shit did to you was not your fault. Do you understand!" John' Captain John Watson voice almost shook the foundations of the flat. "But John, it is. I'm the Gay Virgin Consulting Detective. That's what they want to take John. First it was Moriarty, then those gorillas in Serbia, now Gozebo and I'm sure the next in line is the one who just ditched his body in that alleyway." Sherlock slumped into his chair. John stormed over and grabbed Sherlock's chin and pulled it to look at him in the face. "Sherlock Holmes, IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT! Do you understand me! Now explain what is going on in your head because I'm not going to have sex with you just so you can lose your virginity." All the fight in Sherlock's eyes had left as he looked up at John. "Do you love me John?" Sherlock whispered. John froze, this was the moment. John had never expected Sherlock to ask him out right but John knew this was the make or break of their relationship. John let go of Sherlock's chin and looked at his feet, feeling Sherlock's eyes on him John gave a short nod. Sherlock stood and took John's face in his large hands angled his face up to his before brushing his lips along John's. "Sher..."   
John gasped. "It's for you John, I have been waiting for you." That was enough for John to wrap his arms around Sherlock's thin frame and give in to Sherlock's kiss. John was gentle, teaching the young man to kiss, in and out like a tide until Sherlock had worked it out. Then John nipped at his pouty bottom lip causing a rumble to vibrate up Sherlock's dainty throat. "Bedroom." John murmured and instantly Sherlock had John's hand in his dragging the Army Doctor into his room. Sherlock threw his night gown off and onto the floor but then stopped and stared at the bed. He looked so young and so terrified naked by his bed. "Sherlock, undress me?" John suggested. Sherlock turned to John, his confidence returned as he stalked the greying Doctor. Sherlock efficiency stripped him but then stood back, he wanted to touch, to learn everything about the good doctors body. "How about I lay down and you can have a look?" John offered waving along to his aging and beaten up body. Sherlock nodded. John spread himself out on Sherlock's bed giving in to the young Detectives need to explore. Sherlock touched and licked everything, he wanted to memorise what John felt like, tasted like and smelt like. He wanted to know John's body better then his own. John watched quietly, giggled slightly when Sherlock licked his ticklish sides and hummed when found his sensuous zones. When Sherlock was finished John was relaxed and plyiant even though his cock was hard and sitting in a puddle of pre-cum on his stomach. Sherlock was sitting on his thighs just watching John now, John gently ran his hands along Sherlock's thighs from above the cast to his hip bones. "What would you like to do now lovely?" Sherlock squirmed in indecision "Can I ride you?" Sherlock whispered. A shot of desire shot through John as his cock twitched hard against his stomach he left out a groan. "Oh god yes!" John answered. Letting Sherlock have control John watched as Sherlock prepared himself all John could do was hum as Sherlock fingered himself open over John's legs. The sight of all that creamy white skin flushing as Sherlock let out little whines of pleasure testing every fibre of John's self control. Sherlock suddenly looked John in the eyes, he was completely wreaked as his sweatly curls stuck to his forehead. It was like having an angel in his lap and John had to grab the base of his cock so he didn't come just from the wanton display Sherlock was putting on. "Ready." Sherlock whispered. John nodded as Sherlock took hold of John's cock from John's hand and slowly sank down on him. Both of them stopped and just breathed once Sherlock was completed seated on John's cock. "Sher!" John moaned brokenly. Sherlock lent forward to kiss John before slowly starting to grind down on his cock. John knew Sherlock needed to control this but having the amazing, gorgeous man in his lap was seriously testing his control. "Fuck, Christ Sher, your a marvel. Fucking brilliant." John babbled as Sherlock used him for his own pleasure and it wasn't long before Sherlock was painting John's chest and stomach in his cum "Jawn!" Sherlock moaned as he finished and collapsed on to his messy chest. John gently grabbed Sherlock's arse with one hand and ground up into the curly heads fluttering hole as he painted Sherlock's insides with his own seed whining loudly. John wrapped his arms around the young man on his chest, once his cock had softened and slipped out John rolled them onto their side and pulled the blanket over them both tucking Sherlock into his chest, mess be damned. "God your beautiful." John murmured. Suddenly the bed was empty and Sherlock was huddled into the far corner of the bedroom hyperventilating. "Sher!" John called. "He, he called me that!" Sherlock spat desperately trying to make himself as small as possible. John quickly relayed what he had said, Beautiful, Gazebo must have called Sherlock Beautiful. Well crap. John carefully got out of bed and grabbed Sherlock's favourite blue dressing gown and slowly held it out to Sherlock. "Sher, it's ok, it's John. I'm not going to hurt you." John slowly wrapped him up in his gown and pulled him into his chest wrapping his arms around him. As they both sat on the floor Sherlock calmed as he listened to John's heartbeat and gentle murmuring. Eventually John was able to get Sherlock back into bed as they curled up into each other and fell asleep.


End file.
